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"I mean, are you sure this is love? Or is it just the intensity of the situation? Working closely with someone, especially someone as charismatic as Genevieve, can create pretty powerful emotions."
Eden considered. "I've thought about that," she admitted. "But this feels different. It's not just attraction or admiration. When I'm with her, I feel . . . whole. Like I've found a part of myself I didn't even know was missing."
Amanda’s softening expression had a lump forming in Eden’s throat, threatening to have her blubbering right there at the table. "I can’t say I know much about it, but that does kinda sound like love," she agreed. "But Eden, you need to remember something important."
"What's that?"
"You are an incredibly talented, amazing person in your own right. With or without Genevieve, with or without this play. Don't lose sight of that, okay?"
Eden clamped her lips together, fighting that rising lump with everything she had. "Thank you," she eventually whispered.
"I mean it," Amanda insisted. "Whatever happens with her, whatever you decide to do, don't forget your own worth. Youdeserve someone who sees how amazing you are and cherishes you for it."
Eden nodded, blinking back hot tears. "I'll try to remember that."
"Good," Amanda said firmly. "Now, order some food. I don't know about you, but I need some pancakes to process all this drama."
Eden laughed despite herself, grateful for her friend's ability to lighten the mood. As they perused the menu, she felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. She might not have all the answers, but at least she wasn't facing this alone.
Once she’d devoured an entire stack of blueberry pancakes, barely pausing to breathe, Amanda glanced back up to find Eden furiously chewing on her bottom lip. "Can you try getting out of your head for like, a second? You can’t afford to let a good avo toast go to waste!”
Eden groaned. For a professional actress, she had no damn poker face. "I'll try. It's just . . . I can't stop thinking about her, about us. What if I come out of this even more fucked up than I already am?"
"You won't," Amanda assured her, letting slip a bewildered snort. "You're smart, you're talented, and you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. Whatever happens, you'll handle it."
Eden took a deep steadying breath, trying to internalize her friend's words. Mands loved a good mantra, after all. "You're right. I know you're right. I just need to focus on the play, on my performance."
"Exactly. And remember, I'm here for you, no matter what. If you need to talk, or cleanse your chakras, or just sit in silence eating ice cream and watching trashy movies, I'm your girl."
Eden laughed, feeling that familiar surge of affection for her eccentric friend. "What would I do without you?"
"Crash and burn, obviously," Amanda teased. "Why don’t you take your food to go, hm? Head home, get some rest, masturbate at will, and try not to overthink things too much, okay?"
They hugged goodbye for long enough that people started to stare, and Eden found herself feeling slightly better as she made her way home. Spilling every last thought and emotion to Amanda had helped her process it all, even if she was still tangled up in her anxiety about what would come next.
Back in her room, Eden tried to distract herself by working on the script. She spread her notes across her desk, determined to focus on Beatrice's character arc, rather than her own tumultuous reality.
But concentration proved elusive. Every other line reminded her of Genevieve - a note scribbled in the margin about vocal inflection, a highlighted passage they'd discussed in rehearsal. Eden found her mind wandering, replaying moments she’d spent alone with Genevieve, one delicious scene at a time.
“Masturbate at will.”
Eden shook her head, chuckling to herself at the echo of Amanda’s parting advice. Had it been so obvious that her blood was roiling, all adrenaline and oxytocin and whatever other chemicals that made up this intoxicating sexual awakening? Eden picked up her phone, half-hoping to see a message from Genevieve. But the screen remained stubbornly blank.
Should she text first? What would she even say?Thanks for the mind-blowing sex. By the way, I think I'm falling in love with you?
Eden groaned and tossed the mobile onto her bed. As the afternoon wore on, her anxiety about the next day's rehearsal grew. She paced her small bedroom, imagining various scenarios having to do with seeing Genevieve.
Would things be awkward? Would they both be able to act like nothing had happened? Or worse, would Genevieve regret it entirely?
"You're a professional," she muttered to her reflection in the mirror. "You can handle this. Just focus on the work."
But even as she said the words, Eden knew it wouldn't be that simple. How could she possibly concentrate on her lines when all she wanted was to feel Genevieve's touch again?
As night fell, Eden found herself unable to sit still. She cleaned her already tidy room, reorganized her bookshelf, and even considered going for a run before realising it was nearly midnight.
Finally, exhausted more from emotional turmoil than physical exertion, Eden crawled into bed. She set multiple alarms, determined not to oversleep after such a late night. The last thing she needed was to give Genevieve a reason to be disappointed in her.
As she lay in the darkness, Eden's mind raced with possibilities. Maybe Genevieve felt the same way. Maybe this was the start of something real, something that could last beyond the run of the play.
